


Worth It

by lifeofsnark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Case Fic, Dom!Sam, Double Penetration, F/M, Light BDSM, not-quite-an-innocent-bystander!Dean, semi-public play, sub!Jo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4401071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofsnark/pseuds/lifeofsnark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a case at a local club, which wouldn’t be a problem, but it’s the local BDSM dungeon. Sam and Jo have been down that road before, so they go in together. The next night Dean gets his first look at the world of BDSM. (The plot is just an excuse for kinky porn.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

Jo looked up from the file and stared at Sam, her mouth opening and closing several times. Finally she found her voice.

“Are you serious about this?” She threw the file at Sam, who deftly caught it without breaking eye contact with her.

“You know I am, Jo,” he said evenly. “C’mere.” He held an arm open and she padded over, standing between his spread knees. He looked at her levelly. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if we had a better option. But you and me, we’ve been down this path before.” He set his forehead against hers. “And you liked it,” he whispered.

She stood there in the shelter of his body, borrowing his strength and soaking in his Sam-smell, all coffee and musk and cheap laundry detergent. Straightening, she backed up an inch or two, her mind a swirling mess of nerves and the tiniest bit of a thrill.

“I’ll do it.”

The corner of Sam’s lips twitched, a crooked smile.

Jo’s lips quirked, a cockeyed grin. “But you already knew I would.”

“Yeah.” He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. “I did.” And then he covered his mouth with hers, bending her back a little, her weight resting on his forearms.

They were thirty minutes late for their meeting with Dean outside the BDSM club.

~~~

Music heavy on the bass filtered up the stairs and thrummed through the soles of their shoes. Sam reached down to link his fingers with Jo’s, who gave him a firm nod despite the tightness of the skin around her eyes. She was in flat sandals and a loose cotton sundress, far more than the woman who was proceeding them down the stairs.

The first thing that struck Jo wasn’t the undulating or bound bodies in various states of undress, it wasn’t even the overwhelming music- Jo was assaulted instead by the smell: stale sweat and sex and leather and smoke.

Sam stepped in front of her, their hands still linked. “Eyes down,” he murmured, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the wailing lyrics.

They wove their way through the club, Sam walking as surely and confidently as he always did. With her head tilted down Jo didn’t get a good look at their surroundings, but she saw enough. There were women of all kinds present, but most of them seemed to be shackeled to something- spreaders on the wall, St. Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench, the frame of what looked like a surgical table. Generally she couldn’t see more than their feet or a hand, but she was getting a very bad feeling about this.

She looked at Sam’s ass instead. Pam was right, you could bounce a nickel off that thing.

Sam stopped abruptly, dropping her hand, and Jo halted too, staying just to his right and behind him. She tried to clear her mind, to find that place she went when she was in the sub zone with Sam. She couldn’t get there, not right now, not without some kind of touch or cue or reassurance from him.

“New here, yes?” a gruff voice spoke. There was a clink, something glass or metal being set down.

Sam leaned his weight to one side casually, glutes shifting in the slacks he was wearing. “Yeah. I have to say, this isn’t what I was expecting.” Sam’s voice was blasé, the tone that of a man used to better things, to quick service. A little thrill went through Jo. Maybe she could pretend this was just one more roll playing game.

“Yes?” The smoke-ravaged voice asked slowly, most likely assessing the giant man in front of him.

“I had been hoping to introduce my sub to public play but this, well, this wasn’t what I had in mind at all.” Sam took a step backwards, and Jo hurriedly stepped out of the way, eyes still cast down to the hideous plum-colored carpet. Idly she thought carpet was a really bad choice of flooring for a sex club, it wouldn’t wash well.

“Wait.” Sam stepped in front of Jo fully, and she wondered if this… gatekeeper was ogling her. “Ve have private room in back. We see how that goes, then we talk.”

A door opened and Sam moved forward, Jo following behind. They were moving through a series of cubicle like rooms, some empty, other containing two or even three people in various positions.

“Here.”  They stopped, and Sam guided Jo to stand by him, his hand on her back.

The man paused for a moment before stepping away, the heels of his boots echoing on the now-tile floor.

“Come on,” Sam said, and he was guiding her in.

Sam assessed the little space. One wall was fitted with clamps and hooks at various heights and widths, the opposite wall had a variety of toys and tools, and there was a short vinyl-covered bench against the back wall.

“Take off your shoes and kneel, Jo. You can look at me, now.”

She did as he asked, kneeling on the cool tile floor and gazing around.  Things looked a little cleaner back here, which was reassuring. Sam was gazing at the wall of toys, one eyebrow slightly raised, while he absentmindedly adjusted his tie- it was silk, and expensive, something she had helped to pick out for this trip.

She waited quietly as her knees began to throb. Sam picked up a pair of handcuffs, set them back on their hooks, and drew something out of his pockets- individually wrapped hand wipes. She raised her eyebrows, knowing better than to talk when they had donned their roles as sub and Dom. He noticed, and shot her a quick wink as he wiped off a few of the wrist and ankle cuffs.

“Stand up, Jo, and come here.” She did as she asked. He had laid out the wrist and ankle cuffs within reach and stood in front of the wall of hooks. She padded over, anticipation and nerves building in the pit of her stomach.

“Are you nervous Jo?” He smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear, looking down at her intently.

She nodded. ‘Yes, a little.”

He nodded a little in return. “That’s okay. What are the safe words?”

“Yellow and red,” she murmured, throat getting tight.

He raised an eyebrow. “Louder, Jo.”

“Yellow and red.”

“Take your panties off and put them in my pocket.”

Jo blushed furiously. It was one thing to have regular sex with a man, even kinky sex, but putting her underwear in his pocket somehow felt like a whole new level of intimate. She slowly slid down her thong- blue and yellow lace- without raising her skirt and unceremoniously stuffed the scrap of material into Sam’s warm trouser pocket.

“Good girl,” he crooned, placing his hands at her waist and picked her up. “Wrap you legs- there we go. Right arm-” and he snapped it to the wall, followed by the left. He made sure the pegs supporting her armpits were in place, followed by the thigh and ankle supports and restraints.

“Comfortable?”

She nodded.

Both eyebrows raised. “What do you say?”

“Yes Sam.”

He shot her an unexpected smile, brilliant like the flare of a falling star.

He walked up to her until her breasts just brushed against his chest, his nose inches from her. He insinuated his hand under the generous skirt of her dress, those long fingers of his sliding up and down and up and down the soft skin of her thighs.

She shivered at the heat in his eyes, the way they were totally focused on her face, on her reactions. She’d been having sex with Sam off and on with Sam for years, their …sessions (for want of a better label) delving deeper and deeper into the kinky. He’d had this focus from the get-go, that intense observation of her, and honestly it had led to some of the best sex of her life.

On the next upwards slide his fingers glid between the damp lips of her pussy and Jo jumped a little, her movements hindered by the clamps. That only turned her on more; she was open and vulnerable to this man, this beautiful and powerful man she trusted so much. She trusted him with her life, her secrets, and now, her pleasure.

He moved three, maybe four fingers up and down her slit before moving to the little nub hiding at the top of her cunt and circling there, fingers massaging around and around.

He cocked his head to the side, assessing her. “You like this,” he drawled, fingers still working. “You like being here, spread wide open for me, for anyone to see as they walk by. Every man in here- and yeah, some of the women too- would be jealous of me if they got to see you like this, with your skin flushing and your pulse fluttering-” he leaned forward to suck softly at the side of her neck, his fingers increasing the pressure against her clit. She began working her hips against him, hoping for more pressure, more more more.

His other hand smacked her hip. “Stay still, little Jo. I’ve got you.”

Sam tugged the front of her dress down until the neckline scooped under the bottom of her bra, a sheer unlined little lace thing Sam had presented her with earlier in the day. He began to pinch and twist at her nipple, just a darker shadow against the lace covering it.

“You’re so wet for me, little Joanna, you like this. You like being spread out and hung on the wall, the prettiest decoration in this whole goddam place.”

She was close, oh so close, if only he would press a little harder, tug a little bit more- and then he stopped, dropping his hands away and stopping all contact.

Jo growled at him then, her cheeks flushed pink, her breasts heaving, her eyes glinting at him wickedly. She loved this and hated this; loved being able to give up the worry and obsessive control and responsibility that hounded her everyday life, but at the same time… he was the most frustrating man.

That frustrating man was smirking at her. “What do you want, Jo?”

She just growled again, yanking against the padded cuffs that held her wrists. He sat down on the (probably germ-ridden) bench. “I guess you don’t want anything then.”

He crossed those long legs at the ankles, casually adjusting the erection straining against the fly of his pants.

“I want to come,” Jo huffed, staring straight ahead of her.

Sam was in front of her quickly, dragging the bench behind him. He set it a foot or so in front of her and sat down again. “I think that’s a great idea… but not just yet.” He shot her that patented Sam Winchester shit-eating grin, dimples flashing, before parting her with his thumbs and nosing into her pussy. He tormented her first, lazily plunging his tongue in and out, circling her hard little clit without any real contact, and sucking lingering kisses to the sensitive skin where pussy and torso meet.

Finally, he condescended to pay her clit some attention, holding it between his lips, laving his tongue over her, sucking it ever few seconds.

At that point Jo wouldn’t have known  _or cared_ if there was an entire crew of people outside watching them, she just wanted,  _needed_ , to come.

And as she danced right there on the edge of bliss Sam scooched away, leaning back on his palms.

“Who was the third president?”

Her brain had to run that through twice. “What?” She looked at him quizzically, mouth open, panting.

“Third US president.” Sam really did have an evil gleam in his eye, it was the same look he gave Dean before putting waxing strips on his legs while Dean slept.

“Oh fu-“

Sam held up one finger. “Ah- think about what you’re going to say. You don’t have to come at all.”

She glowerd at him. “Thomas Jefferson.”

He looked at her, his face almost comically cherubic. “7 times 6”.

“Forty two” she hissed past clenched teeth.

He kissed the skin next to her navel. “My shoe size?”

“Fourteen.” Currently she was plotting to fill those size fourteens with old fry oil next time he was at the bar.

“Mmm, good girl Jo.” He kissed her fully then, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, still salty with her own arousal. He was fumbling with his belt, button zipper, then he was lining up and  _yes, oh god, Sam, yes_ he was inside her, stretching her so, so good.

The cuffs on her ankles popped, one after the other, and she bent her feet back to the wall for leverage. Her fingers itched to ruffle through that long hair of his.

He thrust up into her quick and hard, just like she usually liked it, both hands twisting at her nipples.

Jo didn’t last long before she was back on the edge of orgasm again. Sam smacked her pussy, just enough for a little sting. “No, not ‘til I say so.”

He slowed his thrusts to a luxurious pace, all rolling of hips and the intense slip and slide of his cock inside her, his thumb riding her clit.

“Please, may I come Sam, please?” Jo gasped out.

“Alright, come, come now,” he growled, eyes squinting to slits as she began clenching tightly around him. He was holding her hips hard enough to bruise but she didn’t notice of care- Jo was in the middle of one of the most intense orgasms of her life, and bruises were a small price to pay.

When she started paying attention to everything around her again, Sam was unlocking the wrist restraints and tugging her into his arms. “This place isn’t even equipped for decent aftercare,” he grumbled to himself. He sat her on the bench and located her shoes before buckling them on her slim feet. He held her for a few minutes before standing to walk down that long hall.

“You still have my underwear,” she hurried to say before they left their little nook.

He smirked. “I know.”

She followed him out with her eyes back on the floor, serene this time around.

The gatekeeper stopped them.

“She is very good.”

Sam didn’t respond.

“You say you look for something better. We have private party tomorrow, I was told to give this to you. Bring the girl.”

Sam pocketed the envelope and led Jo through the public floor as though the mysterious invitation were of no consequence.

Once Sam reached the Impala he slid immediately into caretaker mode. He wrapped Jo in a large beach towel worn thin from many washings but perfect for the summer night air. He passed her a water bottle and bucked her seatbelt himself.

She would have rolled her eyes if any other man had acted like this, but when Jo had protested the care- finding it weird and far more intimate than any fucking could ever be- Sam had read her the riot act. Now she kind of liked the attention, she felt special and cared for.

The pampering continued back in the Winchester’s squat of the week- they hadn’t wanted to carry all of this on right under Ellen’s nose.

Dean watched in what appeared to be fascination and horror as Sam rubbed salve into bruises forming on Jo’s wrists and ankles as she sat on the kitchen table.

“What, Dean?” she finally snapped.

“I… just… what’s the appeal? I mean, I get you guys get off on it, and hey, I say try everything once but… why?”

Jo shrugged and sipped some more water. “It’s hard to put in words. But it’s… it’s the ultimate freedom.”

Dean looked confused, but shrugged it off.

“You can see for yourself tomorrow. We’ve got an invite to that manor where the other girls disappeared.

Dean looked down at the invitation his brother handed him. “Peachy.”

~~~

The three hunters stood side by side gazing up at the house ( _looks like some British manor_ Dean had muttered), Jo bracketed between the two men. Lights were scattered through the high windows, a row of luxury cars parked neatly on the cobbled drive.

Dean had insisted they park Baby a little bit away, saying that he wasn’t gonna leave her if they had to make a run for it. “Why am I here again?” he muttered as they started up the wide steps. “I don’t know anything about this.” He looked a little cowed by the whole thing.

“We need you to keep an eye out for any unattached girl that they might try to snatch. New subs are really vulnerable in a place like this.”

“What’ll you and Jo be doing?” Dean sulked. “Getting your rocks off?”

Sam shot his brother a look while he knocked on the door. “Keeping our cover,” he said sternly.

Jo punched Dean in the arm, hard, glaring up at him. “You didn’t mind when I got  _your_ rocks off last month.”

Dean huffed, Sam smirked a little.

The carved wooden door swung in, held open by a twenty-something brunette. She was sloe-eyed and tanned and very definitely not wearing a bra. She was dressed in a sheer white scoop neck, the shadows of her nipples obvious. Her skirt was short and pleated and made Dean’s eyes just about fall out of his head- Jo kicked him in the back of the knee.

“Come in sirs, Miss.” They stepped into the vaulted foyer, a glittering chandelier high overhead. Sam handed over the invite, and the hostess glanced at it cursorily. “If I could check sir’s bag?” She held out her palm for the strap of Sam’s backpack.

She rummaged through it before passing it back over, a new gleam in her eye. “Sir is prepared.”

Sam smiled tightly, the expression not reach his eyes. “Yes. I like to know what I am working with.”

The brunette nodded at them and gestured for them to follow. Sam went first, followed closely by Jo, her eyes cast down as she centered herself to focus on her sub self. Dean brought up the rear, obviously trying not to ogle his surroundings.

They ascended a flight of stairs and padded down a lushly carpeted hallway. They began to hear the low hum of voices, classical music tying everything together.

In the doorway their guide paused, turning to look at them. “The party is in here. The rules, such as they are, are that everything is sane and consensual, and everyone is allowed two drinks for that express purpose. As this is a private party, you may be asked to leave for breaking these rules. Enjoy.” She sashayed away, but not before sending a parting glare toward Jo.

They continued in the door. There were low seating arrangements throughout the space, the carpet lush, the windows wide and overlooking the gardens.

A couple approached them quickly, a women in a slinky black dress and a tall twenty-something blonde girl.

The older of the two ran a hand over Jo’s arm, and then glanced at Sam. “Were you interested in training your subs with another Dom tonight. I’m Laura, by the way.” She held a beringed hand Sam’s direction.

He shook back. “Sam. And no, my brother here is looking for a sub, and I am introducing my sub to a few… new stimuli tonight.” The grin he shot her was feral.

Laura stroked the younger woman between her breasts. “Us as well. Maybe I will come check on you later.”

They moved toward a group of younger people gathered in front of a large window. Most of them were seated, some on the furniture, others kneeling at their feet.

Sam and Dean took a seat after introductions. “Kneel, Jo,” Sam said gently, quietly, and so she knelt, leaning her cheek against Sam’s knee. She thought this would be worse, somehow, but instead of resenting Sam for treating her like a child it felt… good. She didn’t have to worry about manners or what to say to these people. She just needed to trust Sam.

Another girl kneeling on the floor smiled over at Jo. She winked back. These people were nice. Pretty accepting.

Fingers starting carding through Jo’s hair, but- no, it was Dean. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it.

They discussed all kinds of things- food, sports, sources for reputable sex toys- before circling around to what they needed to know.

“I’m surprised that tonight’s gathering wasn’t canceled,” one redheaded woman commented. “What with those poor girls disappearing from here.”

“Our host is handling it,” a tall man (though not as tall as Sam), commented.

A thinner man leaned towards his neighbor. “Yes, I heard he’d brought in FBI agents as undercover subs. All very hush hush.”

“Who is our host? Is he here, I’d like to thank him.” Sam asked easily. If Jo hadn’t known he was here for a reason she would have bought the whole thing.

“He attends occasionally, but not when we allow guests. Very private man,” someone answered, and then the conversation flowed another direction.

A few minutes later someone scurried into the room and whispered in one of the men’s ears. “The studios have been opened up,” he called loudly. “Though due to security measures, we are unable to allow observes back tonight.” Someone groaned, and the man grinned. “I know, friends, watching can be half the fun. But tonight, you have to content yourselves with playing.” The crowd slowly began filtering through two large archways out of the room.

Dean hissed to Sam, “Now what? I was supposed to be able to go snoop around while everyone, was, you know. Occupied.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, it’s sex, not sorcery or virgin sacrifice. Just come with us, it’ll be fine.

Dean shuffled uncomfortably along with them down a corridor. About half the people stayed in the common area with the bar, clearly preferring to play in public.

They were passing what looked like little bedrooms, simply furnished. Some had strange benches, others X-shaped crosses hanging on the walls. A few were occupied already, the partied engaged with different types of punishment or bondage or play.

Dean did. Not. Get it. Sex was fun, it was great and you could lose yourself in it, but well, at least for him, the whole point was the connection. How were you supposed to feel connected to someone when they were strapped to the wall and you were- he jerked his eyes forward again- spanking someone in the pussy with a riding crop? He fixed his eyes on Jo’s ass under her tight dress and kept them there.

They were taken to a room near the end of the corridor, reminded of the rules, and informed that the stairs were at the end of the hall if they didn’t wish to return to the common room.

Sam stepped inside and began investigating. The bed was covered with a clean fitted sheet. The small dresser yielded a drawer with packages of unopened lube, batteries, and condoms. There was something that looked like a tangled mess of straps and hooks in the corner.

Dean shifted his weight. “What should I do?” he asked.

Sam just glanced at him. “Go pretend to look for the bathroom. Unless you see anything weird, I’d just come back here.”

Dean darted out.

“Shoes and dress, Jo.” Sam said. She nodded and stripped efficiently. Sam was pulling all kinds of stuff out of his backpack and setting them on top of the dresser. When he glanced over at Jo she was standing there in her bra and- “You didn’t put on underwear,” he half-laughed. She grinned but said nothing, Sam’s little punishments could be… inventive.

He came to stand in front of her and kissed her sweetly. “Know the code words?” he asked (unnecessarily in her opinion) as he unclasped her bra.

She repeated the colors again, a little thrill going through her. She wasn’t nervous this time; this was Sam and he pushed her limits in the very best way. Jo felt excited and eager and compliant.

Sam led her by the hand over to the pile of straps. After lifting a few he found three thick ropes and hooks within the bundle and attached them to thick bolts in the ceiling. Kneeling, he pulled a few straps here, tightened there, and created a hole. Holding it in front of Jo, he murmured, “Step in.”

He slid the straps as high as her knee before repeating the process with the other leg. Before she knew it Jo was suspended off the floor, legs splayed, arms fairly easy to move.

“Anything too tight, rubbing wrong?” Sam asked her, his face serious. Jo shook her head, enjoying the sensation of being weightless.

Sam cradled her narrow face between his palms. “I am so proud of you. And so happy that you trust me enough for this. Ready?”

“Ready,” she said, her voice stronger than she was expecting.

He blindfolded her. That beautiful fucker blindfolded her while she was suspended in ropes, why-  _oh._ Wet lips enveloped one nipple, tugging and sucking cleverly. Jo relaxed happily as Sam moved to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.

Then there was pressure on one nipple and then the other followed suit. Something cool and metallic rubbed across her sternum as she shifted, trying to back away from the almost too-tight sensation, the pleasurepain pooling in her belly. He’d put nipple clamps on her, the chain dragging and tugging her nipples with every move.

“Sam,” she moaned.

Fingers slid up her arms. “Doing so good,” he reassured, voice smooth and easy. “Look so pretty, god, so pretty Jo. Your beautiful white skin crisscrossed with straps, little silver chain hanging from your tits. Love your tits.”

She heard a zipper. “Open.”

She curled her lips back over her teeth, looking forward to this. Sam’s cock slid over her tongue and back, back until she almost gagged and her nose was full of heady Sam smell, muskier here. It was slow and easy for a few minutes, the way he slowly thrust into her soft mouth until her lips kissed his knuckled where his hand was fisted around the base of his dick.

He pulled out for a minute and Jo could hear bare feet on the tile floor, the slide of something against the top of the dresser, and then he was back, his cock nudging her lips.

She had only taken two hard sucks on his thick head when she heard a low buzzing start up, and then Sam’s cock fell out of her mouth because he was holding that vibrator against her clit and  _fuck,_ not even Dean’s mouth had ever felt this good on her.

Sam laughed, and then bounced the tip of his cock against her chin. “C’mon Jo, unless you want me to turn your toy off?”

She slurped him down as quick as she could, eagerly bobbing her head at a steadily increasing pace; she could already feel her little clit swelling and beginning to throb against the blunt tip of the vibrator.

She moaned against Sam’s cock and that must have done it because he was coming, coating the back of her throat in hot salty sperm.

She swallowed thickly because she was close, oh so close, and then Sam, just like he had the last time, walked away.

Jo whimpered, she couldn’t help it. She was so needy and wet it hurt.

A cloth brushed over her face, wiping away the saliva and spunk that had escaped.

“More?” Sam asked, and now his voice was deep and raspy. Jo nodded eagerly.

He held the vibrator back against her, stroking his hand up and down her pussy, just petting over it. On one stroke he went further, running his fingers up and over her asshole to circle there, letting the slick from her cunt seep over her.

She tightened up more at the extra sensation. The vibrator was still humming away against her clit almost painfully, Sam’s finger was gently circling, circling, and she thought she just might go mad.

Something shockingly cool ran over her ass and then the tip of Sam’s finger slid through the first ring of muscle and  _fuck_ she coming hard, bucking as much as the suspension would let her, trying to get away from Sam’s stupid fucking vibrator that was keeping her lost in orgasm, her stomach muscled clenched hard enough to hurt. When she was almost at the point of tears he pulled the toy away and she went slack in the straps, dangling there happily, just concentrating on sucking air in and out of her lungs.

Sam kissed over her eyes, her nose, her lips. “You’re doing so well Jo, you’re so damn pretty when you come like that- your pretty pink lips open and your face and breasts flushed. Seeing you like that is so fucking hot.”

Jo  _hmmed_ and kissed him back, breathing in pants into his mouth. Sam gave little tugs on the chain swinging between her nipples, just enough to gradually send little rivulets of arousal back into her system.

“Good girl,” he kissed against her neck, and then he was up getting something else off of the dresser.

Jo was relaxed now, sliding quickly towards sub-space, enjoying the feeling the blindfold, the binds on her limbs, Sam’s hands on her, strong and sure.

Sam was behind her again, his warmth tangible across the few inches separating them. Something smooth pressed against her asshole. It was coated in cool lube and not much bigger around than Sam’s finger. With pressure it popped though the first ring of muscle, and Sam’s index finger shoved it past the second. It was a stretch, but …pleasant. Idly, Jo thought that it was a good thing she’s just had a mind-blowing orgasm, otherwise she would have been too tense for this.

Someone who was not Sam cleared his throat in the doorway. “Uh, guys?” It was Dean.

“Doesn’t she look pretty, Dean? Almost good enough to eat?” Sam asked darkly.

“Yeah.”

Dean was trying not to stare at Jo, trying really fucking hard, but  _fuck him_ she looked like she was blissed out from a massive orgasm, just spread out there, the slickness of her pussy visible from here.

Dean was starting to understand the appeal of this stuff.

But his brother was right there…

Sam bent and whispered something in Jo’s ear, and she nodded.

“Tell him. Tell him, you can do it.” Sam turned dark eyes on his brother.

“I want you-” she looked away, and Sam ran his hand over her hair. “I want you to put your mouth on me. On my pussy.” The last phrase tumbled out of her mouth in a mad rush, she had to get the words out before she lost her nerve.

Dean immediately started fumbling at the buttons of his shirt, walking on his knees over to Jo like a supplicant approaching a shrine.

He tugged his button down over his shoulders and dragged the undershirt off by the collar. He kissed the inside of Jo’s thigh, noticing how the skin shivered under his lips before nosing between her lips, exploring her with lazy swipes of his tongue.

She melted against him (well, as much as she could), letting his tongue sweep her into that warm place full of easy pleasure just like it always did.

And them Sam turned on whatever thing he had stuffed up her butt.

It felt like a little bullet vibrator whirring away, heavily seated inside her. Dean started sucking on her clit a little more firmly and Sam, with that silent Winchester communication, knew to up the vibrations on the vibrator, slowly sliding it in and out of her hole, each pass stinging less and becoming more and more pleasurable.

They didn’t torment her this time, they just let her pleasure build until she came again, lazy waves of orgasm shaking her from her toes to the tips of her fingers.

She felt two of Sam’s fingers replace the little vibrator back there, scissoring back and forth as he worked them in and out, in and out.

“What do you say to Dean?” Sam purred as he nibbled on her earlobe, adding a third finger inside her ass, stretching her wide with a little bit of a burn.

“Thank you, Dean,” she mumbled, probably slurring her words, but she didn’t care because she knew what was going to happen next.

Dean stood and wrapped his arms around her, leaning forward until she could rest her forehead against his shoulder.  “You’re amazing, little Jo. You’re so strong, look at you. You’re so fucking brave.”

Over her head, Sam nodded at Dean, and he gently worked his throbbing cock inside her, rocking his hips a little bit but not truly thrusting.

Sam put one hand around her on her belly and began guiding himself into her with the other, glad that Dean was here to hold her forward and keep her relaxed.

“You’re so pretty Jo, you’re taking me so good,” he crooned to her, forcing himself past the next ring of muscle inside. After long minutes of Jo’s pants and his and Dean’s muffled groans they were both seated deep inside her, could feel each other though the thin tissues that separated them.

They took turns nudging their hips into her and Jo was in a place beyond conscious thought or words. She kind of knew, in an abstract way, that her nipples were bordering on sore, that her ass was stretched a little too much for it to be truly  _good,_ but the sense of fullness, the little bites of pain mixed into the pleasure sweeping over her and faded away into the cacophony of sensations surging through her.

Dean slowly increased his tempo and released Jo’s nipples from the clamps Sam had put there. The tips of her breasts were red and puffy and looked oh so sensitive. He sucked one into his mouth and ran his tongue over it gently, almost reverently, not letting his teeth touch the sensitive flesh between them.

Sam had his hands clamped tight on her hips, his teeth grazing over the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck. She was hotter and tighter than anyone he’d been in before, and  _fuck_ if he doesn’t already feel like coming, feel his balls drawing up high from all the pressure clamping down on him like a vise.

Dean ran his lips over Jo’s breathing, “I’m gonna come, honey, please come too, come with me.” He slid a hand down her belly to toy with her clit, trying not to press too hard against the little nub that had already been through so much that night.

Jo felt like the little smear of black separating the yin and the yang, the light and the dark. Dean was worshipping her, running his hands everywhere, whispering encouragement and praise.

Sam was behind, squeezing and making little growls of pleasure, thrusting slow and strong.

Dean came first, erratically thrusting into her, his fingers jumping on her clit.

Jo came next, slumping forward onto Dean. He began peppering her face with kisses, licking away the tears that slowly escaped the corners of her squinted eyes.

Sam came last in a few great heaves, the tight heat of her ass making his vision go white.

The Winchesters unstrapped her together, carrying her to the bed and bracing her between them, sharing their warmth and petting her cooling skin.

Sam lay facing her. “I am so proud of you. You are so strong, and so brave, and so hot.”

The corners of her mouth crooked and she half-smiled sleepily at him.

Dean nuzzled into the back of her neck, enjoying the armful of tired woman against him. “Just so you know, the cops were here arresting some guy. I pretended to be security and talked to them about it. They’ve got evidence on him, he was part of some high-roller white slave trade. Humans all along, man.”

Sam smirked at his brother, and then looked down at Jo, who was asleep. “Worth it.”

Dean nodded. “So worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I did not mean this to be a BDSM how-to, although if something is glaringly wrong (or right!) please let me know. I'm also on tumblr with other fics and drabbles at winchestersandwordprocessors. Feel free to say hi!


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